


Goofy Smiles & Ponytails

by sarcastic_fina



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-12 08:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 11,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastic_fina/pseuds/sarcastic_fina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Felicity/Tommy prompt fills from my tumblr. Some are friendship, some are romantic.</p><p>[12] 5 kisses for reasons other than that they wanted to<br/>[13] Things you say when you were gone too soon (Earth-2 Tommy, pt 1)<br/>[14] Things you said when you were drunk (Earth-2 Tommy, pt 2)<br/>[15] Things you said at 1 am</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt** : Felicity is at QC, Tommy comes in to see Oliver and there they have their first meeting. - **[tanya-posts](tanya-posts.tumblr.com)**

"Can I help you?" Felicity asked, looking up the tablet she had in her hands as she went over Oliver’s schedule. "Because he’s already booked up for the morning, and the afternoon, and most of the night, actually. So I’m asking more out of courtesy. At least, I assume you wanted to see him today. You could’ve just called and asked for a later date, so you’re probably hoping you can just sneak in for a quick chat, but that’s not going to happen. He has  _waaay_ too much work ahead of him and it falls to me to make sure he actually does it. So, since I finally forced him to stop playing Tetris on his phone, because he’s really that retro apparently, he’s not getting any more free passes to Procrastination-ville, population him.” 

The tall, boyishly handsome man in front of her blinked, and then slowly began to grin. “You must be Felicity.” 

"That would be what my nameplate says…" She paused and then reached for it. "At least I think it does. I forget sometimes if it just says Miss Smoak. And one time Roy replaced it with Mrs. Queen, which was so not cool, especially when the vultures descended." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, yes, I’m Felicity, and you’re…" Her eyes narrowed. "Not here with lunch, so you can’t be the delivery guy."

"I’m not, but I’d gladly take you to lunch if you were hungry."

Her lips twitched. “Cute.”

"I like to think so." He held a hand out to her. "Tommy Merlyn, the big guy’s best friend."

"Oh.  _Oh!_ " She hopped up from her desk and reached for his hand. "Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I should have recognized you. I mean, he talks about you, a lot, and I think he has a picture of you somewhere in his office, but you were much younger. Oh, not that you’re old or anything. It’s just, you were a scrawny pre-teen in the picture, so, well, look at that, puberty did wonders, huh?" Her face flamed then and she pressed her hands to her cheeks. "Please let me die of shame and don’t mention this to anyone."

"Sure." He nodded. "Right after we get lunch. You don’t want to die on an empty stomach."

Her eyes rose to meet his and, very slowly, she smiled. “I’ve heard that’s not recommended.” 

"Doctor’s orders." He winked at her. 

"Well, who am I to argue with a doctor…" Her brow furrowed. "Which you are not, so I assume this is a metaphorical doctor."

He chuckled under his breath. “We’ll discuss it over wine. I’m personally a fan of red, but I can be convinced otherwise.” 

"Sold."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> flommy: "let me go" - **anonymous**

Felicity shook her head. “It’s no use, Tommy. I— I can’t do it.”

"Yes, you can. Felicity, please. Just… I know you, okay? You don’t give up. You’re the second most stubborn person I’ve ever met, and if you hold on, the other most stubborn person is going to swing in here like a knight in shining armor and save you."

He stared down at her worriedly as she hung perilously from his hands. They were on a metal bridge that was half-collapsed; when it was falling apart, she’d slipped over the edge and the only thing keeping her from falling to her very sudden death was Tommy’s extremely tight grip on her hands. 

She’d tried to reach her foot out to the bridge a level below, but she couldn’t. She was too far away. There were sparking wires and a fire in the distance and she told herself that the tears clouding Tommy’s eyes were from smoke, not because he knew how this was going to end. But he did, and so did she. She was going to fall and the last thing she’d hear was him screaming her name. 

"It’s not your fault," she choked out, looking up at him through the cracked lens of her glasses.

He let out a disagreeable snort. “I told you I’d watch your back. It was a quick in and out job. We should’ve waited for Oliver and Diggle.” 

"I agreed," she reminded him. "We needed that information. We had no reason to think they’d have this place rigged with explosives." She shook her head. "Who even  _does_ that? What if somebody accidentally tripped something, huh? That’s not very smart planning.”

A laugh bubbled out of him and a tear streaked down his cheek. “I’ll leave a  comment card before we go. 0/5, would not recommend.”

She smiled, but then something exploded down below and the metal bridges began to shake. She shrieked, squeezing her eyes shut until she couldn’t take not knowing and finally looked around to see what damage had been done.

There were four bridges in total, crossing one end of the warehouse to the other. They were stable before the explosion, but it had torn through the center and now they were all bent and gnarled and straining to keep up. 

"You still have a chance," she told him. "If you go now, you can get out of here."

He shook his head, his face twisted fiercely. “I’m not leaving you.”

"Tommy—"

"I almost died two years ago. I almost died for Laurel and I wouldn’t have regretted that. Even now, knowing that we never would’ve worked out. That she is  _always_ going to be Oliver’s, I wouldn’t change that. So how do you expect me to walk away from  _you_ , huh?” He blinked back tears. “You’re one of my best friends, Felicity. You were there through my recovery, you pushed me through physio, you stood by me when the media tried to rip me apart! You— You’re my rock. You’re…” He laughed, turning his eyes up for a moment. “I’m in love with you. I have been for a while. I’m not walking away.” 

Felicity squeezed her eyes shut as tears dribbled down her cheeks. “You think you have the market cornered on love? Because you don’t! So while I completely appreciate the nobility angle here, I can’t let you die for me.” 

"Felicity—"

"You need to let me go." 

He gripped her hands even harder, gritted his teeth, and vowed, “ _No_.”

"So that’s it, huh? You wanna die here, like this?" She shook her head. "What about Oliver? What about Thea or Laurel? Tommy, they need you." 

"I need  _you_.” 

A loud groan echoed through the warehouse then and the bridge on the other side collapsed completely, metal twisting together and angled upward, waiting to impale her. 

"Please," she whispered. "I don’t want you to die like this. I don’t want to be the reason you die. Tommy,  _please!_ ”

He stared down at her searchingly and then, suddenly, she felt herself moving, falling just a little bit. He’d released his foot from the hold he had on the bridge and was sliding down with her. 

"Tommy. Tommy, no!" she yelled. 

"You go, I go," he said. 

A sob cracked from her chest. “I love you.” 

He smiled then. “I love you, too.”

A bang made her flinch then, but when she looked up, her heart clenched in her chest. “Oliver.”

Tommy frowned. “Really? For last words, those kind of suck given the circumstances.”

"Good thing they’re not last words then," Oliver’s voice interrupted.

Tommy looked up and grinned at his best friend. “See?” he said down to Felicity.

She rolled her eyes. 

Still, all things considered, Oliver’s timing was pretty great and, near-death experiences might suck but they had their rewards, too.


	3. going slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt** : "going slow" - [absentlyabbie](http://absentlyabbie.tumblr.com/) ( **[Tumblr](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/)** )

Felicity looked back at him over her shoulder from where she stood at the kitchen table, stirring their salad. “I’m not saying we’re snails, I’m just saying that I think we should go slow… Like, well, no, maybe not  _sloth_ slow…” 

Joining her, he rested his chin on her shoulder. “When you say  _slow_ , are we talking hand holding, or is kissing still on the table…?”

“Kissing is always on the table. Just not  _this_ table, because one of the legs is loose and the last thing either of us needs is a trip to the emergency room. How would we even explain that? Sorry you have to stitch up my leg, but we were kissing on the table and it broke.” She frowned. “Huh, I guess that wouldn’t take that much explaining after all…”

Amused, he moved to stand in front of her, giving the table a little wiggle to test its resilience. “You could always add the fact that we’re not sloths or snails, just to give a little more meat to the story. Really pump up the romance.” 

Rolling her eyes, she slapped the back of his chest with her hand. “Cute. But I’m being serious. I just think that after everything, you dying and then going into the pit, and coming back a little…” She waved a hand around her ear in a clearly ‘you were crazy’ gesture. “Now that you’re on the mend, I just think it’s a lot to take in and romance should be the last thing on your plate.” 

“Or this table, apparently.”

“ _Tommy_.”

“All right, okay, yes, I hear you.” He framed her face with his hands and stared down at her, searching her eyes as he smiled. “But, for the record, this isn’t an elaborate plan to  _not_ date the formerly dead, no longer crazy me, right?” 

She smiled, shaking her head slightly. “No. I still very much want to date you. Just… _slowly_.” 

“Okay. So…” He leaned in, his nose gently bumping hers. “Is this slow enough?” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Too fast…? Stop me when I hit roadrunner.” 

Laughing, she hooked her arms around his neck. “Shut up.” And then she kissed him, and he forgot to tease her. Slow really wasn’t so hard once he got the hang of it. Of course, three months later, once slow was off the table, fast happened  _on_ the table. For the record,  _much_ steadier than he expected. Just to be sure though, he fixed the leg. He planned on putting it to much more use in future.


	4. Dirty Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt** : "dirty dancing" - [absentlyabbie](http://absentlyabbie.tumblr.com/) ( **[Tumblr](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/)** )

Felicity rolled her eyes. “I’m not doing the lift.” 

“Come on! Just once!” He cocked his head. “Are you afraid I’ll drop you? Because I’ll have you know, I have impressive upper body strength… If there was a salmon ladder here, I could almost definitely reach the bar.” 

“I’m pretty sure  _reaching_ it isn’t exactly what it’s intended for…” 

“Eyes on the prize, Smoak.” He rubbed his hands together and moved across the room. “Cut me a break. I didn’t move all this furniture for nothing.” 

Felicity scoffed. “Tommy, you moved an armchair.  _One_. And it’s the same one I told you to move to the other side of the room last month that you said you would get to eventually.” 

“Yes, and today is eventually. It just so happens to line up with the night you wanted to watch Dirty Dancing. Life is full of coincidences. Embrace them!” 

Rolling her eyes, she pursed her lips to keep from smiling. “If you drop me…” She moved to stand directly across from him, with plenty of room to get a good run going. 

“You’ll never forgive me, I’ll spend all weekend making it up to you, I’ll be the worst boyfriend in history, I know.” He wiggled his fingers in a ‘let’s go’ gesture and planted his feet, grinning at her. “Ready?” 

Felicity took a deep breath and then rushed forward, making a little low-pitched humming noise of nervous uncertainty before she finally jumped up and hoped for the best. 

He did catch her, and he very slowly turned in a circle while she hovered high above, her arms spread out and her mouth upturned in a smile. Okay, this wasn’t so bad. It was actually kind of awesome.

“See!? What’d I tell you?” 

“Okay, you were right,” she admitted.

“I knew I should have filmed this.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, shaking her head. 

“I’m going to let you down now. Not because I can’t hold you–”

“Because you have impressive upper body strength,” she teased.

“Exactly.” 

He brought her down a little less suavely than when he caught her, but nobody was injured, so she was happy. Arms around his neck and feet firmly planted on the floor, she kissed him.

Nuzzling her nose with his, he said, “Fun, right?” 

“Mmhmm.”

“Maybe next time, you can catch me,” he joked. 

She hummed. “Nobody puts Tommy in the corner.” 


	5. jealous kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **[21.](http://sarcasticfina.tumblr.com/post/124215358112)** Jealous kiss - **[rosietwiggs](http://www.rosietwiggs.tumblr.com)**

Thea snorted, shaking her head. “You know, green’s really more Oliver’s color.”

“What?” Tommy whirled toward her, his brows raised.

Rolling her eyes, she leaned forward on the bar counter, cocking her head at him. “Jealousy gets old fast, trust me. Take some advice from your little sister? If you like her, do something about it. Either that, or get real used to seeing her happy with someone else. Face it, Smoak’s a catch.” 

Tommy frowned, his eyes cutting back toward where Felicity stood, smiling and nodding at something Ray Palmer was saying. He wasn’t the first guy to approach her, not by a long shot, but he was the first that Tommy could actually see her connecting with and that, well, that made his gut twist up. 

Looking back at Thea, he wondered, “You think I’ve got a chance?” He wasn’t exactly prime real estate currently; his surname was dripping with the blood of his father’s victims. 

Thea smiled at him, glancing in Felicity’s direction before returning her gaze to Tommy. “Only if you take it.” 

Inhaling deeply, he nodded and pushed off his stool. “Okay.” Gathering up is courage, he started across the floor toward where Felicity stood, nodding along with Palmer. She was beautiful; her hair tied up and her cheeks flushed from the champagne. Tommy tried to think of what he could say to interrupt. A Code Green would get her attention, but then he’d have to admit it was a lie and fess up to the feelings he’d been trying, and failing, to get under wraps these last six months. But getting over Felicity didn’t seem like an option, and the more time he spent with her the more he didn’t  _want_ it to be one.  

He could go the route of asking her to dance, steal her away and then keep her distracted the rest of the night, far away from Palmer or anyone else. That wasn’t uncommon of him. He usually stole her for a dance when he needed to get away from the scrutinizing questions the 1% tossed his way at these all too frequent benefits. Being the sole heir to a man that had left the city in devastation hadn’t done much for his credit, but Felicity was understanding and often slipped in to get him out of any awkward conversation, even if it usually ended in her putting her foot in her mouth and him having to do the rescuing. 

So that was two options he had, both with their own merits. But what he did instead was reach for her elbow, tapping it gently to get her attention. And when she turned toward him, her smile growing and her eyes seeming to sparkle as their gaze met, he went a different route completely. 

In the fraction of a moment, he knew there were other options, smarter options, but never let it be said that Tommy Merlyn wasn’t entirely too impulsive for his own good, a product of growing up the way he had. Without so much as a hello, Tommy simply leaned in and kissed her. His palm cradled her cheek, thumb sweeping gently over her skin. She let out a squeak of surprise, her brows hiked, but then she sighed and leaned into it, her arm reaching up and wrapping around his neck. 

The music faded into a buzz in his ears and the chatter of everyone else seemed to fade away completely. All he knew was the scent of Felicity’s perfume and the soft slant of her lips against his, her fingers curling at the nape of his neck. His hand slid over her hip and around to where the low back of her dress left her skin bare under his fingers. She shivered as he drew sweeping circles over the small of her back and arched forward, her chest pressing against his. 

It could’ve been seconds or minutes before they parted, but then Felicity was staring up at him from hooded blue eyes, her lips swollen and her breath unsteady. 

“Question…” she murmured. 

“Mmhmm.”

“Was our first kiss because you were  _jealous?”_

He paused, glanced away, and then winced. “Uhh…  _oops?_ ”

Humming, she licked her lips. “For the record, not your best idea.” 

“True,” he agreed. “In future, I’ll refrain from jealously staking a claim like a caveman.” 

“It’d be appreciated…” She smiled. “You can still kiss me though, just so we’re clear. _Non_ caveman-style.” 

Chuckling under his breath, he reached up, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “Duly noted.” Nuzzling her nose, he said, “I’d like to get a headstart on this kissing thing, actually. You wanna get out of here?” 

She slid her hand down his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Big Belly first though? I’m _starving_.” 

Taking a step back, he held an arm out for her to take.

Felicity scooped her arm through his and started chatting about what awkward ramble she’d slipped into talking to a senator. Tommy grinned; all things considered, while he could’ve planned better, he was happy with the outcome. 

On the way out, he winked at Thea, who gave him a congratulatory thumbs up. If there was an award for best sister, she’d get it, hands down. In fact, he might just have one made… 


	6. “Who wouldn’t be angry? You ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “[Who wouldn’t be angry? You ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!](http://leidoscope.tumblr.com/post/114793840553)"

Felicity was pretty sure both John and Oliver would have criticized her choice of weapon (not to mention not calling them in for back-up), but it was all she could find at the time and there was no going back now. So, armed with a badminton racket, she slinked out from the relative safety of her bedroom and into her kitchen, completely dark outside of one noticeably bright area. 

Raising the racket high high, she shouted, “Hah!” as if to startle whatever intruder had saw fit to enter her apartment and… plant himself on the floor in front of her open fridge…?

With a shriek that he would later describe as “perfectly manly,” Tommy Merlyn spilled a good portion of the cereal in the  _giant_ bowl in his lap and then frowned up at her. “Jesus, Smoak. You think you could take it easy? I’m too young to die of a heart attack.” 

Shocked, she dropped her racket to her side and exclaimed, “If anybody should be having a heart attack, I think I get dibs. You’re dead! There was a bomb and a building and a  _funeral_!” 

He blinked up at her, his eyes slowly wandering away. “Yeah… About that…” With an awkward smile, he spun his spoon around and said, “Surprise!” 

“Surprise? What the  _hell_ , Tommy!” She stomped her foot, glaring when he quickly filled his mouth with cereal as a way to avoid discussing the current situation. “Hey, put down the spoon and move away from the cereal!” She brandished her racket once more in warning. 

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Really? I just got back and you’re going to threaten my poor, innocent life… That seems a little unjustified.” 

Felicity huffed, tapping her foot irritably.

He frowned. “Are you angry? You look a little flushed around the…” He motioned his hand around his  _entire_ face. 

Reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose, she said, “ Who wouldn’t be angry? You ate  _all_  of my cereal–” She motioned to the empty boxes on the floor around him, “– _And_  faked your death for three years!”

Scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, he offered, “Well, as far as the cereal goes, I was planning on replacing it…” 

Felicity blinked at him, then she threw the racket in his general direction, ignored his dramatic cry when it bounced off the door of the fridge, and marched her way back to her bedroom. 

“So… is that a ‘no’ to me staying on your couch?” he called after her. “I only need a week, two tops… You know what, maybe make it three, just to be sure.” 

Felicity slammed her bedroom door closed and flopped down on her bed, face first, grumbling all the while.  _Stupid billionaires and their ridiculous ability to return from so-called death._

Of course, when he wandered into her room ten minutes later, carrying a bowl of Fruity Pebbles and wearing an apologetic puppy face, she _may_ have slid a little closer to forgiveness. She blamed the cereal, really. She was always a late night cereal snacker. It was a weakness. And somehow, he’d figured that out. That didn’t mean she was going to tell him that, however. He had a lot of explaining to do, and a lot of groveling. Starting immediately.


	7. “Fuck, I feel like I got hit by a car… Wait. I did. And it was your car...?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “[Fuck I feel like I got hit by a car… Wait I did? And it was your car?](http://leidoscope.tumblr.com/post/114793840553)”

Felicity groans, her hand raising quickly to cover her eyes as the bright ceiling lights suddenly invades her vision. Her entire body aches, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. “ _Fuck_ ,” she whined, squirming a little. “I feel like I got hit by a car.” She pauses then, the vague memory of a honking horn and a clearly flashing Walk sign coming to mind. Dropping her hand, she casts her eyes around, realizing she’s in a hospital bed, and there is a man, sheepish and awkward, standing about five feet away. “Wait… I  _did_. And it was  _your_ car!” she accuses.

“Uh…” He smiles suddenly, shifting from awkward and apologetic to charming and handsome. “Okay, funny thing, see, I was on my phone.” He waves a hand quickly as her expression turns thunderous. “No, see, there was an investor for my club, and if I didn’t answer, he’d probably pull my funding, which I need… for my club. So, I wasn’t exactly looking when you started across the road, but, in my defense, I didn’t _see_ you…”

“Yeah, because you were looking at your  _phone!_ ” She points at him angrily. “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you be in police custody or something for attempted vehicular homicide?”

“Okay, I think you might be overreacting  _just_ a bit…”

Felicity shifts around her bed, searching through the sheets and blanket. 

“What’re you doing?” he wondered. 

“Looking for the call button so I can have a nurse remove you, or call the police. Maybe both. Probably both.”

“Okay, okay, I think we got off on the wrong foot,” he says hurriedly.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t hold a grudge against someone who  _ran. me._ **over**.” 

He winces. “Accidentally,” he adds.

Felicity glares.

He tries smiling again, and she’ll admit it’s a pretty sight, but no one can hold that against her since she probably has a concussion. He thrusts a hand forward and introduces himself, “Tommy Merlyn. Terrible driver and attempted business man who swears he is  _not_ trying to kill you with his car…” 

Felicity eyes his hand carefully. “Merlyn,” she repeats. “Like… Merlyn Global?”

He winces. “Uh… Unfortunately. Unless you’re considering suing me, in which case, my name is Oliver Queen.” 

She laughs. She doesn’t mean to, but she does. And she regrets it. Groaning, she presses a hand to her ribs; bruised, she guesses, but not broken. Small miracles. “Oh God, I feel like crap. Run-over crap.” 

“Yeah, that’ll probably last a while. The first time I was run over, it took  _weeks_ before I felt better.”

Felicity blinked. “The first time…?” 

Smiling winsomely, he took a seat beside her bed. “It involves alcohol, a Mercedes Benz, my best friend, and a lot of fire crackers…” 

Felicity frowns, her eyes darting away, and then back to him curiously. 

He smirks. “Oh, I have stories… Wanna hear ‘em?” 

Eyeing him uncertainly, she shifts back on her bed. She doesn’t like mysteries, and he’s provided one for her. Still… She’s found the button to call the nurse, she holds it in her palm. She’ll decide what to do with him after he’s done his story. And will not, under any circumstances, allow that flirtatious smile of his change her mind… _probably_.


	8. "It didn't hurt this much at first..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "[It didn't hurt this much at first...](http://amusewithaview.tumblr.com/post/127443113385/post-trauma-sentence-meme-angst)"

“It didn’t hurt this much at first…”

Felicity rolled her eyes. “Stop squirming. This needle is sharp and your skin is soft. Do you want crooked stitches?” 

“Soft, huh?” Tommy smirked at her over his shoulder. “You think so?” 

She snorted, directing her eyes to the cut on his shoulder. “You want to explain again how this happened?” 

He hummed thoughtfully. “Can I plead the fifth? Is that an option?” 

She merely raised an eyebrow, to which he winced. 

“All right. Okay. So… Oliver called…” 

Sighing, she shook her head. “I should’ve known.” She tied off the last stitch and then wiped the finished product clean and reached for a dressing pad to cover it with. “I thought you said you weren’t going out in the field.  _Ever_. I specifically remember you saying that leather only played into your  _personal_ life…” 

“You sound worried about me, Smoak.” He waited until she taped off the dressing and then stood from the chair he’d been sitting backwards on. He shrugged his unbuttoned shirt back onto his shoulder, wincing briefly.

“Not worried. Just…” She tugged her gloves off and tossed them toward the trash can. “I think I have enough reckless men in my life. I don’t need another one.” 

“Is that a deal breaker?” He gazed at her searchingly. “Do I need to hang up the proverbial leathers if I want to be in your life?” 

Felicity peered up at him. “In what capacity are we talking about here…?” 

He reached for her, fingertips grazing her cheek. “I thought I was being pretty obvious. Do I need to be clearer?” 

“It’d be nice.” She turned her face into his hand, letting her cheek settling against his palm. “You could always type up a list of your intentions and email it to me. I promise not to hold your previous dating life against you… Too much.”

He ducked his head as he laughed. “Or we could just cut to the chase now.” His free hand smoothed over her hip and tugged her closer, until they were stomach to stomach. “I can’t promise I won’t get scraped up against in future, but… You’re not going to see me parkouring off cars anytime soon.” 

“No leather?” she asked. 

He leaned down, his nose brushing against hers. “Outside of the bedroom? _No_.” 

She laughed under her breath and tipped her chin up. “I can work with that.” 


	9. first date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “[Our first date is a picnic on a beach under the stars? Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?](http://leidoscope.tumblr.com/post/128635221443)”

“Our first date is a picnic on a beach under the stars? Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?” 

Tommy looked across the blanket he’d laid out and the basket sitting at the corner. “What? Too much? Is it the candles? Because they can go… They were a little risky to begin with.”

Felicity rolled her eyes. “It’s not the candles. It’s just…” She waved her hands around to encompass everything. “It’s a lot. It’s like… three different dates mixed into one. I’m not complaining, exactly. Although I’d like to point out that these shoes weren’t made for sand and if you’re expecting sex, it is not happening in any crashing waves. The water is freezing and this dress is brand new.” 

He laughed, sitting back. “Point taken. No sex on the beach.” 

“Okay.” She carefully bent to sit on the blanket, removing her heels as she did. “Overall though, I do like it. Cheesy, but in a good way. Expensive cheese. The kind that doesn’t stink.” 

He grinned, and reached for a bottle of wine. “I’ll take it.” 

Smiling, Felicity dug out the wine glasses from the picnic basket and held them aloft. All in all, she thought as long as the tide stayed where it was, they’d be fine, and it would be her most memorable date, if nothing else.


	10. las vegas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt** : can u write a flommy fic where they meet in vegas?

Tommy had high expectations from his Vegas trip on two fronts. One, that he and his dad might actually spend some quality time together. (of course, he had a long, disappointed history of finding out that was on the short list of things that were probably _never_ going to happen) And two, that sin city would welcome him with open arms, introducing him to the fun world of gambling with a big boy seat at any craps table of his choosing.

Both of these things did not happen.

His father fended off any chance of spending time together with business obligations and also managed to put a kibosh on any underage gambling his sixteen year old heart might desire. Which led to a bored Tommy wandering around various casinos, hoping someone might take pity on him and let him do a little damage to his trust fund. It was after he’d been escorted out of his third casino that he spotted her.

Blonde, blue-eyed and sitting cross-legged at a table, a laptop open in front of her… His eyebrows shot up in interest. Craps might be out of the question, but flirting wasn’t off the table. With a grin, he wandered over to where she was sitting, already searching through his usual go-to lines for charming a pretty girl. He’d just taken a deep breath when–

“No thanks, not interested.”

All of the air whooshed out of him abruptly. “Uh. Sorry?”

“Not. Interested,” she enunciated for him, never pausing in her typing. “I’m sure you’re a nice guy, or at least you think you are, but I have homework, and a shift at four, so I really don’t have time for you to try and make me your ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ story.” She snorted. “Also, just FYI, things that _don’t_ stay in Vegas: STD’s. So, don’t think this is a magical place where VD doesn’t follow you home.”

Tommy blinked at her and then broke into a smile. “They should put that on their brochure.”

She paused in typing.

“No, really. Think about it. ‘What happens here, stays here… Except VD. See a doctor if the itching won’t stop.’ _Classic_.”

Her lips twitched and she slowly sat back in her chair, raising her head to look at him curiously.

“Or, _ooh_ , even better, they can make those really awful commercials. ‘Did you come to Vegas for craps but instead get crabs? We have a cream for that…’”

She laughed, biting down on her lip to quiet herself. “Okay, you made your point.”

“Are you sure? Because I bet I can come up with a few more…”

Shaking her head, she held a hand out. “Felicity, resident babbler.”

“Tommy, currently free of any and all STD’s.”

“Currently?” She raised an eyebrow.

He winced. “You’re right, I probably could have worded that better…”

She laughed. “ _Probably_.” 

“We should talk about that.” He rocked forward on his heels, brokes hiked. “Maybe over lunch…?” 

She paused, then looked from him back to her laptop. It was the longest three seconds of his life before she reached out, closed her computer, and turned to him a with a grin. “Sure. I could use a break.” Standing from the table, she reached for her bag to stick her laptop inside. “I know a place, good food for cheap.”

Tommy smiled. “Lead the way.” He waved a hand in front of him. 

She nodded and walked forward, flip-flops slapping against the floor. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she looked back at him over her shoulder, where freckles were spattered over her sun-kissed skin. 

Tommy followed after her, smiling. 

Suddenly, the odds his Vegas trip were going to end well were definitely in his favor.


	11. perfection

She’s going to regret biting down on her hand later, but for right now, she’s not thinking straight. All she knows is she is _loud_ (the neighbors  either need to invest in ear plugs or they need to invest in soundproofing) and he is _focused_ (slow, methodical, and entirely too smug about it). Her knees are hitched over his shoulders and the scrape of his morning stubble against her thighs is just short of overwhelming as she climbs toward an orgasm and then has it torn out of reach. 

He’s doing it on purpose. She _knows_ he’s doing it on purpose. And she would accuse him if she thought her tongue could make words, but she’s pretty sure the only thing that’s going to come out is a collection of strangled, desperate, noises. So she bites down on the meaty part of her thumb and she digs her heels into his back and her nails scrape at his hand as he slides it over her stomach and up, in between her breasts, tapping out the increasingly quick beat of her heart with the tips of his fingers. 

He’s kissing down her thighs, stroking gently with his tongue, smiling as he feels her shake under his mouth. And then he grins at her, his mouth wet and shiny, and he dips back down to taste her, just enough to tease. 

“ _Tommy_ ,” she grits out, releasing her hand and wincing as her thumb throbs.

“Don’t rush perfection, Smoak.” He nuzzles against her thigh affectionately, looking all too proud of how wound up she is. 

Felicity rolls her eyes and huffs at him. “I’m going to remember you said that later.” 


	12. 5 kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt** : '5 kisses for reasons other than that they wanted to' by [absentlyabbie](http://absentlyabbie.tumblr.com/) ([Tumblr](sarcasticfina.tumblr.com))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> au - tommy and felicity are the same age, and felicity's parents are tech moguls like the queens and merlyns

**1\. (1991)**

Felicity has no time for boys. She doesn’t have time for anything other than computers, really. But her mom insists that she be polite and friendly and leave her motherboard in her bedroom while they make friendly with the Merlyn family. Frankly, she’s just glad it’s them and not the Queens too, otherwise she’d have  _two_ annoying boys she had to play nice with, and the last time she saw Oliver Queen, he pulled her hair and called her a ‘nerd.’ 

For as long as Felicity can remember, which isn’t much, since she’s only six, her family has been friends with the Merlyns and the Queens. Her dad calls them ‘friendly rivals,’ since they all have stakes in tech, but all Felicity knows for sure is it means she has to remember which fork is the salad fork and that someone (probably her) is going to say something that will make people laugh at them. She doesn’t mean to put her foot in her mouth so much, but it seems to be making a home there. 

By the time she’s put on the dress her mother laid out and the polished shoes that pinch her toes, she’s already wondering how long this visit will last and if she can fake a stomach ache to duck out early. But then the doorbell rings and one of the staff is opening the door to invite their guests in. Her mother hustles her into the foyer to greet everyone and Felicity is only mildly comforted by the fact that Tommy Merlyn looks about as enthused to be there as she is. He’s tugging at his bow tie and frowning, his small shoulders hunched. 

“Malcolm, Rebecca, it’s so nice to see you again.” Donna smiles at them warmly. “And Tommy, you look like you’ve grown since we last saw you. Doesn’t he look taller, Felicity?”

“His hair looks bigger,” she replies, because he does seem to have added something to it that makes it stand higher than usual.

She can feel her mom’s fingers squeeze her shoulders as she lets out an awkward laugh, but Rebecca seems genuinely amused as she strokes a hand over her son’s cheek. “He’s been experimenting with my hair products. He wanted to look nice today.” 

“Did not,” Tommy mutters, leaning against her leg and turning his face away, as if to hide it. 

“It’s great to see you, Donna.” Malcolm steps up then, pressing a friendly kiss to her cheek. “And you, Miss Felicity.” He takes her hand to press a loud ‘pop’ of a kiss to her hand that makes her laugh. 

“Say hello, Tommy,” his mother encourages, nudging at his shoulder. 

With a put upon sigh, Tommy steps up and takes her hand, much like his dad did. He too places a kiss there, but then screws up his mouth like he’s caught cooties or something. 

Felicity’s eyes narrow at him and she, very obviously, wipes her hand on her dress. 

In reply, Tommy wipes his hand over his mouth, and the two children are caught in a glaring contest until Donna tells them to go play in the den and invites the Merlyns to join her for a drink. 

“Race you,” Tommy says, and is off like a shot, leaving her shouting after him that he’s a cheater as she gives chase.

* * *

**2\. (1992)**

Tommy is pretty sure these parties are just an excuse his mother makes to stuff him in a suit. He doesn’t want to be there, and he definitely doesn’t want to be wearing a tie, but no matter how much oatmeal he flushes down the toilet in imitation of vomit, telling his mom he’s just too sick, she’s not buying it. So, here he is, in a monkey suit, trailing behind her as they walk up the stairs to the museum. He just barely keeps from lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the camera flashes on either side of them. He’s used to the attention, he’s grown up in it, but his eyes still blur with little black spots and he reaches for his mom’s steadying hand as they pause at the top of the stairs. 

He can hear the music coming from inside and sighs to himself. He’s going to have to dance. Probably with a whole lot of old ladies that call him ‘adorable’ and pinch his cheeks. He gives himself an hour before he’ll end up hiding in a coat closet.  

“Is dad coming?” Tommy wonders, looking up at his mom. She looks beautiful, in a blue gown that glitters, with diamonds in her ears and around her neck. He’d bet the whole Merlyn fortune that she’s the prettiest person in the whole place. If anyone should get their cheeks pinched, it’s her, not him. 

“He’s on his way,” she promises, giving his hand a squeeze. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat at the buffet and then we’ll mingle. Maybe we’ll find Oliver or Felicity, hm?” 

Tommy grins, bouncing forward on his feed and leading her inside, tugging at her all the while. His mother only laughs at his new found eagerness. He hasn’t seen Oliver all month, since his family went away on a ski trip, but they’re supposed to be back by now and he can’t wait to see his best friend. 

They’re standing by the buffet, with Tommy telling his mom what he wants on his plate, since the table is just high enough that he can’t quite reach, when he hears a familiar voice coming his way. 

His mom has just finished piling his plate with strawberries when he turns his head and sees Felicity walking over, frowning skeptically up at her father, who seems amused by something she’s said. 

“I’ll be sure to pass the message on, dear, but I don’t think he’ll take my advice seriously when I tell him my seven-year-old told me.” 

“Mommy says he’s dumb anyway.” 

He coughed on a laugh. “We’ll leave that part out, all right?” 

Felicity shrugs, but then turns and spots Tommy standing not far from her. She frowns in his direction, but then turns a smile up to his mother. “Hi Missus Merlyn,” she greets. 

“Felicity, hello!” Rebecca replies, grinning down at her. “Don’t you look pretty. Doesn’t she look pretty, Tommy?” 

“She looks  _pink_ ,” he mutters, before stuffing a strawberry into his mouth so his mother won’t make him talk more. 

Rebecca merely laughs, and Mister Kuttler grins, seeming charmed. 

Felicity rolls her eyes. 

“Mister Kuttler, Missus Merlyn, would you mind if we take a quick picture?” a voice interrupts, and they turn to find a man holding up a camera. 

“Of course,” Kuttler agrees, bustling his daughter over to stand next to them, with Tommy and Felicity pressed shoulder to shoulder.

Tommy offers a half-smile for the camera; he’s been mugging for photographers for as long as he can remember. But then the man says, “Why don’t you give the pretty girl a kiss then, Tommy.”

Adults are weird like that, Tommy thinks. Always telling kids to hug and kiss people, other children or grandparents that smell like mothballs, and then they giggle about how ‘cute’ they all are.

With a put upon sigh, tommy turns his head and presses an awkward kiss to Felicity’s cheek. Her skin is warm and a stray curl of her hair tickles his nose. He can see she’s blushing, right before the camera flush goes off, and then her elbow knocks against his ribs. He gives an ‘ _oof_ ’ and frowns at her, but she simply turns, sharp enough that the braid she’s wearing her hair in whips behind her, nearly catching him in the face. She takes her dad’s hand then and pulls him away while she talks about servers and microchips and firewalls.

Tommy looks back to his mother, and is quickly distracted by a table of desserts.

* * *

**3\. (1992)**

Felicity is uncomfortable. She’s dressed in all black and it seems, everywhere she looks, people are sniffling or crying or looking terribly sad. She liked Rebecca Merlyn. In fact, of all the Merlyns, Rebecca was Felicity’s favorite. Her mother didn’t tell her what happened or why Rebecca died, she just knows that it was wrong and it was never supposed to happen.

Felicity is much smaller than most of the people at the wake, so it’s easy for her to go unnoticed. Her mother is crying into a handkerchief somewhere, talking to business partners all the while. She hasn’t seen her dad; he didn’t come with them. In fact, she hasn’t seen him much lately at all.

It’s a need to get away from the crying that leads her upstairs. She’s been to the Merlyn Mansion enough to know her way around. She’s played hide n’ seek so many times that she knows every good place to hide. In the end, though, she ends up on the stairs, where she finds Tommy sitting, his arms wrapped tight around himself, his cheeks ruddy and his eyes red-rimmed. She takes a seat beside him and doesn’t say anything for a while; she’s not really sure _what_ she should say.

It’s a few tense minutes before she finally murmurs, “Are you okay?”

Tommy snorts, a wet noise, and wipes a hand under his nose. “No,” he says.

She nods, fiddling with her fingers as she does. “I’m sorry. Your mom was really nice. I bet you’ll miss her.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, his voice cracking, and he reaches up to rub at his eyes.

Felicity isn’t sure what to do then, or what else to say, so she reaches for him, hanging an arm over his shoulder, and they just sit there for a while, listening to the hollow noise of people talking in another room.

Tommy leans over after a while, dropping his head to her shoulder, and Felicity thinks about her mom. How Donna comforts her when she’s upset, kissing her owies better and wiping away her tears. It feels like the right thing to do, even if she’s not sure she should or even wants to. But she kisses the top of his head, on his messy dark hair, like her mom did to her when her nana passed away last summer.

Tommy sniffles. “What’s that for?”

She wants to shrug, but thinks it might knock against his head. So she tells him, “’Cause you’re sad.”

Tommy doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he doesn’t. He just sits there, with his head heavy on her shoulder, until Oliver finds them some time later, and takes a seat on Tommy’s other side. And Felicity’s never been especially close to Tommy, or Oliver either, but she thinks maybe that will change. Maybe a lot of things will change now.

* * *

**4\. (2001)**

“What’re you even _doing_ here?”

Tommy looks up from the script in his hand and offers Felicity a roguish smile – the same smile that convinced Kendra Matthews to let him feel her up at Oliver’s last party. All it gets from Felicity is an eye roll. “I’m Todd’s stand-in. Won it fair and square.”

“Understudy. And you only tried out as a _joke_ ,” she reminds him. “Oliver _dared_ you to and you just happened to get it.”

“Daring me doesn’t mean I’m any less talented. _Or_ handsome.”

Sighing, she shakes her head. “Do you know even know your lines?”

“Hey, I’m only doing this today. Todd’s back next week. I’m mostly here to help _you_ practice. Don’t worry so much. You’ll still get to make out with Todd on stage.”

She flushes, a bright, vivid pink, and glares. “It’s not making out!”

He smirks at her. “Sure? I can help you practice _that_ too.”

“Shut up,” she mutters, and makes her way out to the stage, shoving a curtain out of her way as she goes. “Just remember your lines, all right?”

“Who knew you were such a drama geek…” He follows after her, checking out a few of the other girls in the play as he goes, winking at a brunette he can’t remember the name of but who has some pretty impressive _assets_.

“Mister Merlyn, Miss Smoak, if you’re ready,” the director calls out from his seat below.

Tommy frowns. “When’d you change your last name? I thought you were still going by Kuttler? I know your mom did. Personally, I _prefer_ SmoakScreen to Kuttler Corp.”

“Is now really the time?” she hisses at him.

He shrugs. “We don’t talk much. Just trying to get to know my stage partner.”

“I changed it last summer…” Under her breath, almost so quietly he can’t hear her, she mutters, “It’s not like he’d care anyway.”

The director clears his throat once more, and they each turn toward him. “Where we left off before, please.”

Tommy glances to Felicity. “Where’d you leave off before?”

She’s frowning now. “Maybe we should skip that part. It’s not really—”

“From where we left off, Miss Smoak,” the director insists.

Felicity turns to him with a sigh. “Page twenty-six.”

Tommy’s brow furrows as he flips through the script and skims the page. His brows hike before he looks up at her, but her eyes are elsewhere. “Uh, okay…” He looks between her and the director. “Ready when you are, _Smoaky_.”

She turns to him, takes a deep breath, and pulls herself together. When she steps toward him, her expression is softer, and, for a moment, Tommy forgets that this is a play and she is a character. Her hand slides over his chest and she tips her head back as she looks at him. His heart is pounding, more than it ever has before, and his eyes are focused on her lips as they move, but he can’t hear a word she’s saying. Truth be told, he really doesn’t know his lines. He barely knows what this play is about. He tried out because of Oliver and he’s only here now because he thought it’d bug Felicity, which it has. But now they’re about to kiss, not as themselves but as characters, and there’s a part of him that wants it ( _really, really_ wants it), but another part of him that doesn’t, not like this.

But then she tips her chin up and looks at him expectantly, her eyes briefly darting toward the director, a sign that he needs to hurry up and get it over with already or they’ll be in trouble. So Tommy does what’s expected, even if a part of him is resistant to it, and he leans down as his hand lifts up, fingertips brushing against her cheek.

Her lips are soft, or he thinks they are, the kiss lasts hardly a beat, and then she’s leaning back and moving on to her next line. He wonders if her kiss with Todd will be as short, but then her elbows bumps his and he lifts his script to ramble off his own line half-heartedly. His eyes follow her though, as she gets deeper into character, and he hopes they’ll have to re-do this scene, or maybe Todd will stay stick a little longer, maybe next time she won’t pull away. Or maybe the next time they kiss they’ll be themselves.

* * *

**5\. (2013)**

“Kiss me.”

Felicity’s eyes pop as she looks toward him. “ _What?_ ”

“You want to get caught?” Tommy wraps an arm around her waist and yanks her toward him until their bodies are flush. “At least when we’re kissing, they can’t see our faces.”

“ _That_ is your master plan?” she growls, wanting to shove him. “We’re outrunning hired thugs and you think we should give up our headstart and make out in a dirty alley?!”

“Our headstart was crap to begin with, and your heels aren’t helping.” He shrugs, and reaches up, burying his fingers in her hair. “Oliver—”

“ _Arrow_ ,” she corrects.

“Arrow,” He rolls his eyes, “is still five minutes out. Now are you going to kiss me or are we going to get shot?”

She grumbles, but she can hear the voices and pounding footsteps catching up, so she grabs him by the lapels of his jacket, pushes him back against the wall, and presses her mouth against his. It’s abrupt enough that their teeth clack together, and the fear of being caught, and killed, keeps her from getting anything out of it. Not that she _wants_ anything out of it. She doesn’t! Tommy is, well, _Tommy_. She’s known him her whole life. She’s seen his ups and downs and sideways. He’s her oldest friend, one of the few that stuck with her through her dad’s abandonment and her mom’s rebranding of their tech company without so much as a blink. She didn’t always like him, especially as a kid, but he grew on her. And now, being two of the few people to keep their other childhood friend’s vigilante secret, she considers him one of her best friends.

The kiss is awkward and stilted and little more than two mouths shoved together. But then the thugs pass the alleyway by, ignoring them completely, and she sighs, her whole body going limp with relief. She’s not sure if he means to or not—she’d bet not—but he nips at her lower lip before she pulls away. It doesn’t feel like the rest of their forced kiss. It’s… _nice_. A little shiver runs down her back, but she blames it on the cold, a breeze pushing through the damp, dark confines of their hiding spot.

“We should go,” he says, and he’s panting a little, his breath warm on her mouth. “Before they come back.” He rubs his hands down her bare arms, leaving goosebumps behind, but his eyes are set on the end of the alley. “Okay?”

Felicity nods, and slowly releases her grip of his jacket. He takes her hand as they run, making their way out of the alley and out onto the street, walking in the opposite direction of the thugs. She lifts her head and shakes off her thoughts of before, focusing on the mission at hand. Whatever that was, it was brief and born of adrenaline, that was all.

* * *

**+1 (2014)**

“What were you _thinking?!_ ” Tommy is pacing, running a frustrated hand through his hair as he does.

“I was thinking I had an opportunity and I needed to take it.” Felicity sits a little taller, her chin lifted defiantly.

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “Great opportunity. You’ve got the stitches to show for it.” He motions to her ribs, where the fabric of her blouse is torn and bloody and the white gauze underneath is taped down over her wound. “You were supposed to wait for backup. The whole point of having a team is that we work together.”

“And I was doing my part!”

“You part is here, in that chair, behind that computer!” She stabs a finger toward her set-up. “Not in the field, where people with _knives_ try to stab you!”

“I needed to be closer to the system. I couldn’t get it from here. I did what I had to do—”

“When I joined up with this crazy crusade, Oliver promised me you would be _safe!_ ” He waves his arms around dramatically. “This isn’t safe!”

Rolling her eyes, Felicity pushes off the metal table to stand, wincing at the pull at her ribs. She steps up to him, fire in her eyes. “Oliver doesn’t get to decide what is or isn’t safe for me, and neither do you. I’m my own person. _I_ get to decide which risks I’m willing to take, _nobody else!_ ”

He grinds his teeth, his hands falling to her shoulders and squeezing. “You could’ve been killed. Do you get that? If that knife went a little deeper, if he cut you somewhere else, if he had a _gun_ instead. I could’ve _lost_ you! We could be burying you right now, in the same damn cemetery as my mother. And all you can say is that it’s your _choice_ if you end up dead. Can you see how completely crazy that is?!”

“It’s not my choice to die; it’s my choice to be a part of something that will save lives!” She shrugs off his hands and lifts up on her tiptoes to meet his eyes. “And don’t act like you aren’t doing the same thing. You’re just like me, except you go out in the field when you want and I don’t freak out whenever you get a papercut!”

“Six stitches. _Six_.” He shakes his head. “That’s not a papercut!”

“You’re overreacting,” she grits out.

He laughs incredulously. “I’m reacting the exact right amount.”

Sighing, she turns her eyes upward. “ _Tommy_ …”

His hands find her face then, thumbs skinning along the arches of her cheeks. “You could’ve _died_.” His voice softens, but the insistence that she understand him is still there. “I’m not telling you to stop being a part of this. I’m not even telling you to never go in the field again. But if you could just acknowledge that you scared the _shit_ out of me…” He stares at her searchingly. “I lost my mom. She’s never coming back. I lost Oliver for _five_ years. I lost my dad to vengeance. I won’t lose you too.” He shakes his head. “I _won’t_.”

Felicity stares at him a long moment, until finally she nods. “I could’ve waited for back-up. I could’ve told you what I planned. And I will. Next time. Because there’s going to be a next time.” She stares at him seriously. “ _But_ … I’m sorry. That I scared you.” Her hands find his wrists, fingers skimming over his hammering pulse. “I’m okay though, really. I’ll heal.”

He nods, staring down at her, and he takes a deep breath, unsteady as it leaves him. “Well, I think that’s probably enough soul baring and fighting for one night. Why, uh, why don’t we head upstairs, get a drink at the bar? It’s on the house.”

She snorts, sliding her hands down his arms. “Always is with you.”

He rolls his eyes. “We can afford it. Besides, I think we earned it, don’t you?” He raises an eyebrow. “You’re not on pain killers, are you?”

“I’m fine,” she insists. She’s about to take a step back, when his fingers tighten against her face a moment, stilling her. Eyes raised up to meet his again, she waits to see what he’ll do.

“You’d tell me if you weren’t?” he wonders.

Her expression softens. “Have I ever lied to you before?”

“No,” he says, heavy and sincere. “You might be the only one who never has.” He draws his hands back, drags his knuckles over her cheek, one hand gently curling around her neck and tugging her forward. “I was wrong.”

“About?”

His eyes dart away and his lips hitch up at the corner. “The soul baring part being over.”

“Oh?”

“Just one more thing…”

Felicity’s eyes dart to his mouth and then back up to his eyes. “I’m listening.”

“Good.”

He nods, and then he’s leaning down, and his lips are slanting over hers, firm and warm. It’s nothing like it’s been before. It’s not brief or awkward or unexpected. It’s just… _them_. Reaching a point they’ve always been on a slow and steady course toward. Maybe they’d been headed there since they were children. Maybe, if things had been different, they would’ve arrived there earlier, or later. All she knows is they’re here now. She knows it feels good and right and like they’ve reached a precipice she’s ready and willing to fall over.

His arm wraps around her waist and pulls her in tight, her own circling his neck, and then he’s lifting her back up onto the table she’d been sitting on for her stitches, her knees cradling his hips. It reminds her of the slash across her ribs, but she swallows a pained groan. He feels it anyway, the grimace of her mouth, and he leans back. “Okay?” he asks.

“Uh-huh.” She pulls him in for another kiss, fingers coiling in his hair and skimming down his neck, she can feel his pulse pounding heavy under his skin. Anticipation, worry, a mixture of both and more.

Still, he draws back, forehead pressed to hers. “We should probably talk about… all of this.”

“Mmm. Or not. Or after.” She nips at his bottom lip. “Definitely after.”

He nods, parted lips hovering just over hers. “After,” he says, drawing her in a little tighter. “In-depth.”

And she smiles. “In-depth,” she agrees.


	13. felicity/earth-2 tommy [1]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things you say when you were gone too soon

“So… I died.” Earth-2 Tommy stared down at the headstone, his brow furrowed. “Well, that sucks.” 

Felicity blinked at him. “Understatement, maybe.” She frowned and shook her head. “Sorry! I have no idea how this feels. Everyone deals with their own mortality differently, I shouldn’t judge. It’s just… I mean, how many people can say they’ve stood at their own grave.” She paused. “Well, no, I mean, there’s Oliver… and Sara… and Malcolm… You know what, it’s more common than I thought. Ignore me.” 

He laughed, but it was short and humorless. Hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, he took a look around, and then inhaled deeply. “It’s weird, some of the parallels between our worlds..” His brow furrowed. “Not everything, but enough to make it _really_ uncomfortable.” 

“Like what?” she wondered. 

“This grave, it… It’s in the same place in my world.”

Felicity went still, looking from him to the headstone and back. She motioned a finger between the two. “You…”

“It wasn’t mine.” 

“ _Oh_.” She bit her lip, not sure if she should ask. “You don’t have to talk about it… I mean, if you want to, I’m here… We don’t know how long you’ll be here and, well, better to have a friend, right?” 

His mouth turned up slowly at the corner. “Yeah.” He swallowed, throat bobbing. “My, uh… My _wife_ …” He ground his teeth. “After Oliver died, I spiraled for a while. Just couldn’t get my feet under me. Drank too much, partied all the time, was pissing my life and trust fund away… And then I met her and she… She wanted _nothing_ to do with me.” He laughed. “She was anti-establishment in every way. Guess she thought I was just some rich asshole. Which, I _was_. But…” He shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to be.” 

He took a deep breath, glanced at her. “So, I got my shit together, dealt with my daddy issues, opened my own business, and asked her out on a date. _Miraculously_ , she said yes.” 

Felicity smiled. “Where’d you take her?” 

“There was this diner she loved to go. Big Belly Burger?” 

“We have that here!” She lit up. “ _Amazing_ burgers. And shakes. And, ugh, the fries!” 

He grinned. “Yeah, we got all of that, spent the whole night talking. Closed the place down. They had to kick us out.” 

Felicity stared up at him, something wistful about his expression. “How did it happen?” she wondered. 

“Everything was great for a while. Club took off, we got married, we were thinking about getting a dog.” His mouth pulled up and then fell just as abruptly. “And then my _dad_  blew up the Glades. Leveled the whole place.” He waved a hand. “And she, uh… We got our lines crossed. She– She thought I was at the club, she went to meet me there, but… I was at home. _Safe_. And…” His jaw ticked. “And she died. The club just _collapsed_ , and she was caught underneath.” He cleared his throat, blinking rapidly. “Sorry, I… It was four years ago, but it still feels like yesterday.” 

Felicity nodded, reaching a hand out, fingers curling around his forearm and squeezing comfortingly. “I’m sorry.” 

He offered an empty smile, nodding.

“It happened kind of like that here too… Except, obviously Oliver didn’t die. He came back, took up the Arrow mantle, and when Malcolm tried to destroy the Glades, he did his best to save who he could. We found one bomb, but not the other. We lost 503 people, you included…You died a hero, if it helps. You went inside a burning building to save Laurel Lance. You two were kind of, sort of dating, I guess… It was complicated.” 

Tommy hummed. 

She chewed her lip, and tapped her fingers against his arm. “Are you okay?” 

He cleared his throat and turned to her. “Yeah. Just… Bad memories.” 

Nodding, she tipped her head. “Come on… We can get Big Belly Burger, drown our sorrows in strawberry milkshake. How’s that sound?” 

He stared at her searchingly for a moment, and then nodded. With a grin, he waved his hand forward. “Lead the way, Smoaky.” 

She laughed at the nickname, scrunching her nose up. “That’s cute. You come up with it on the spot?” 

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s an old nickname. My wife hated it.” 

Felicity stopped walking, hand slipping from his arm, and stared after him, her mouth agape. “Your _wife_?” 

“Mmhmm.” He looked back at her with a smile. “You had dark hair in my world. Wore a lot more eye-liner. But this looks nice too.” 

She blinked at him rapidly. “How–? _What_ –? But…” 

He held a hand out. “Didn’t you promise me a milkshake?” 

She stared at his hand a beat, and then took it.


	14. felicity/earth-2 tommy [2]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things you said when you were drunk

“You’re hitting the sauce a little hard there, Merlyn. You okay?” Felicity circled around to take a seat beside him on the couch.

The Arrow cave was empty outside of them. Tommy was staying in the spare room they’d set up for emergency sleeping since the wider world thought Tommy Merlyn had died four years earlier. There were only so many options and, considering that Oliver was still widely followed by the press, having his dead best friend stay at his place was not an option.  

Tommy blew out a heavy breath. “My best friend is alive, my wife is dead, and I’m in an alternate universe where someone who looks like my wife once had a really intense relationship with _said_ formerly dead bestie…” He forced a smile and then knocked back the rest of his drink. “I’m peachy.”

She winced. “Okay, poor choice of words…” She turned to face him better. “I thought you were doing okay with the whole… I look like your dead wife thing.”

“Technically, you don’t just look like her, you _are_ her. Just a different _version of her._ A  _blonder_ version that wears glasses and pink lipstick and is the CEO of her own company, and oh God, my wife would _hate_ you.”

“Hey! _Ouch_. I’d like to think all me’s would like this me, current me, _whatever_ me I am… This is confusing. What earth-is this? Am I Earth-One Felicity or is it cocky to think we’re number one…?”

He blinked at her and then began laughing, rubbing his fingers over his eyes and shaking his head. “Both of you babble though. That’s comforting.”

Felicity stared at him a moment and fiddled with her hands in her lap. “We’re working on a way to get you home… Back to your own time and friends and…”

“To my empty apartment, right. Where I took all the art off the walls, because she picked it. And I can’t go in the kitchen, because she loved cooking in there–”

“She could cook? Ugh, I’m terrible at it. Now I think _I_ hate _her.”_

His mouth ticked up faintly, but fell a moment later. “I miss her.” He closed his eyes. “God, I miss her so much, every day, and… I thought at first I could do it. But every day is just… _exhausting_. And when I came here, when I woke up and you were standing there, I thought… Maybe I died. Maybe this was, I don’t know, some kind of do-over.” He swallowed tightly. “But it’s not. You’re not her. She’s gone. And… I’m just _here_. Left behind… Again.”

Felicity’s heart lurched in her chest. She reached for him, a hand settling over his wrist. “You’re right, I’m not her. I can never be her. But I can be your friend. I… I _want_ to be your friend, Tommy. And I don’t know what that means, how I can help you, but I want to try.”

He stared at her searchingly, blue eyes hauntingly sad. He leaned forward then, shifting in his seat so they were a lot closer than what might be deemed friendly.

She swallowed, heartbeat picking up.

“It’s just… _uncanny_.” He reached out, a finger sliding down the slope of her nose. “Same nose, same mouth, same eyes… Same voice.” His own caught and he scraped a hand over his mouth. “That’s what I miss the most. Her voice. Her _laugh_. The way she’d say my name…” His eyes were bright and he blinked quickly, but a few tears clung to his lashes.

“After she was gone, all I had were a few videos we’d made on our honeymoon, the pictures on the mantle, our wedding photo… They just remind you how empty things are. You go to sleep in a bed that used to fit two. There’s all these extra pillows, too much space, and you can’t sleep on her side because it doesn’t seem right. And you wake up in the middle of the night reaching for someone who isn’t there…”

His fingers slipped down to her chin, sliding back and forth under the curve of her mouth. “For the first weeks, I kept making too much coffee.. She loved her coffee, but there was… I’d put her mug out every day, it never got used…” His brow furrowed. “After a while, you learn to live with that ghost hanging over your shoulder. But then that ghost is solid again, and it’s terrifying. Because you’re not her.  You don’t talk like her or dress like her or even move like her… There are things, little things, that are the same. But you, you’re your own person. Your own _Felicity_. I know that. _Logically_. But every once in a while, I see you out of the corner of my eye and I think… There she is… my _wife_ …” His mouth trembled. “But you’re not.”

Felicity swallowed, blinking back her own tears, and reached up, fingers coiling around his wrist. “Tommy,” she whispered.

He sniffed, shook his head, and leaned back abruptly. “Sorry. I… I’m a little drunk and that was… _wildly_ inappropriate.” He stood from the couch and wiped his hands over his face. “I, uh, I think I’m gonna get some sleep.”

She watched him as he crossed the room and disappeared through the spare room door. Swiping at her damp cheeks, she leaned back on the couch. And, for the first time since learning about Earth-Two Felicity, she found herself envious of the life she led, of the love she’d found, and of the man that missed her.


	15. things you said at 1 am

“We should get married.” 

Felicity’s eyes abruptly open; her head swivels left and she squints at him, arm already outstretched behind her, patting around the bedside table for her glasses. When she finds them, she shoves them on sideways and has to readjust the arm over her ear. “We what?” 

Tommy grins at her, his hands tucked behind his head, sheet slung low on his hips. “We could elope. Catch a late flight to Vegas. We wouldn’t even have to buy wedding pictures. The paps will do it for us.” 

“Isn’t that clichéd?” Her brows hike. “Rebellious billionaire elopes in Vegas with unknown blonde.” 

“Yeah, Vegas is probably overdone…” He frowns, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “We could go somewhere with sand, but after Oliver, island’s feel a little ominous…” 

“Or,” she says, “just a suggestion… We don’t elope.” 

“Is that a marriage proposal, Smoak?” His eyes twinkle. “I accept. We can have the reception at Verdant… It looks even better after the rebuild. Thea’s fault.” 

Felicity rolls her eyes. “Ha, ha.” She turns onto her side and props her head up on her hand. “What brought this on? Usually sex brain makes people hungry. Point in fact, I could really go for some cold pizza right now… You think there’s any left?” 

“When people ask me about our proposal story, I’m going to tell them you were more interested in the pizza than the ring.” 

“There’s a ring?” She smiles excitedly, bouncing a little. “Ooh, where?”

“Oh, _now_ you’re interested.” He shakes his head. “Since you proposed, I should get the ring.” 

“I think I have some leftover onion rings in the fridge. I can grab them when I get the pizza. Now, where’s my diamond, Merlyn?” 

He laughs. “Is that a yes?” 

She hums, and rolls over. She swings an arm around him and drops her chin on his chest. He brings a hand forward to stroke long fingers through her mussed hair. He’s ruffled and handsome and his grin is a little goofy. It makes her heart squeeze.

“Yes,” she tells him. “But no eloping. My mom’s been secretly planning our wedding since you two first met. I think she’s also got a list of baby names… but that’s a conversation for post-pizza.” 

Tommy nods. “And onion rings.” 


End file.
